Untold Memories
by Limited-Fantasy
Summary: Grindelwald dreams again of the final battle of '45 and finds himself recalling the last time he ever saw Albus Dumbledore. Some excerpts taken from the Deathly Hallows.


**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and the wonderful characters and universe that belong to the series are the property of J.K. Rowling.

"_Ah, my dear Albus Dumbledore, it has been far too long!"_

"_So it has."_

"_I see you waver—tsk! That won't do!"_

"_I was hoping we could reach an agreement without unnecessary violence."_

"_Violence? Why? Am I not doing all of this for the greater good?"_

"_Grindelwald…"_

"_Ha, so you come with fancies of making it into history! Oh, how times have changed—impedimenta!"_

It wasn't Azkaban, but it was just as cold, desolate, and lonely as any other prison. How long as it been? What year is it now?

I rub my ribs lightly, remembering in detail how hard that final spell had hit, sending me crashing inelegantly into a suit of armor, impaled.

It was _expelliarmus_ that day that brought that historic duel to an end. How odd and infuriating to think that such a simple spell could destroy even the most powerful of wizards.

Gazing down at my hands, I sneer at its age, noting how even in the dim moonlight that my yellowed nails cracked and bent malevolently. I hadn't seen my face in awhile, but I fancy it is just as decrypt and ghastly. Age, reflection, and neglect had taken its toll. I was no Dorian Gray, after all.

"Not that Dumbledore's faring any better," I mutter, feeling a smile stretch across my thin face. I shift in my hard cot, drawing the thin blankets to my chin, closing my eyes as I let my thoughts stray back to my dream.

"_Mor—"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

"_Gghk! Aaaaagh!"_

_My wand is in his hand now as he makes a move to approach me. Momentarily, in my pain-hazed vision, I think I see a flicker of softer emotions in those cold blue eyes. It looks like concern, but it's quickly hidden when he uses his sleeve to wipe off the blood gushing from his broken nose. I would've laughed, if breathing didn't hurt so. Instead, I contented myself with a foolish smile as my life starts to drain from me. _

_How odd. I ought to feel outraged._

It was one of two dreams that have been recurring to me throughout my imprisonment. In one, I was angry, screaming like a madman out of the agony of defeat and the pain of metal ripping and stretching already broken flesh. In the other, I would simply smile fondly at Dumbledore like I did when he made a fool of himself in front of me in our younger days.

Of course, I know the former to be fact and the latter to be fiction, fiction composed in my later years as I regarded my former friend in a better light. Funny how age destroyed beauty, but softened hideous grudges. I hope it wouldn't persist or I'd become as daft as Dumbledore and send little boys to do my bidding while I chatted pleasantly with old enemies over sweetened tea and sherbet lemons in Nurmengard.

The last time I saw him, he had a withered hand, but that had been months ago, if not a year. I heard a rumor that one of his little children had done what I couldn't in '45. I'm mildly disappointed at this, but glad all the same that it wasn't that Riddle fellow that calls himself Lord Voldemort. If another dark lord had done what I couldn't, then I would be incensed.

"_What happened to your hand, old chap?"_

"_Oh, this? I decided to pet Fawkes during his burning day."_

"…_hm…keep it up and I wouldn't be surprised now if I outlived you."_

"_Is that a challenge, Gellert?"_

"_Perhaps. I'd hate to see you die by the hands of anyone but I. Remember that when you have one of your suicidal fits. I'd be more than happy to Avada Kedavra your old arse beyond the veil—"_

"_I'd much rather die in my sleep than to allow you to take the Elder Wand."_

"_Who said anything about the Elder Wand?" I shot back innocently. Dumbledore gave me one of his searching glances. _

"_But really, now, Dumbledore, I hardly see you wanting to leave this world. You have such a fascinating life compared to the rest of us." At this, he smiled and shrugged in a carefree manner._

"_Ah, Gellert, but death is just another great adventure!" I snorted at this and he offered me another one of his infernal sherbet lemons._

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear soft steps and the opening of my cell door. I turn on my cot and open my eyes. I sit up quickly, hiding my surprise at this unexpected visitor. Ah, Lord Voldemort, was it? I smile knowingly. I didn't need to be a skilled legilimens to know why my snake-like successor stood in my dingy little cell. I'd been waiting for someone to follow the thread I left behind for years, but I wouldn't tell him a thing about where the Elder wand went from me.

"So, you have come. I thought you would…one day. But your journey was pointless. I never had it."

"You lie!" I chuckle to myself at his fury. Oh, he thinks he frightens me! I see his wand and I know what he will threaten me with.

"Kill me, then, Voldemort, I welcome death! But my death will not bring you what you seek…There is so much you do not understand…" I trail off, waiting for the man to do the deed. I'm not afraid. I'd much rather be erased now than to wait for him to leisurely torture me for naught. I'd eat my own tongue before he would get the information he wanted.

I notice that he hesitates and my laughter bubbles up again. Oh, he looks so conflicted! And here I thought this Riddle—Lord Voldemort, as people call him—was a man of quick decisions! Really now, this was a disappointment. Yet, I knew he was going to do the deed soon, I know what he's like even without ever intimately knowing him. It is the same amongst most of us that call ourselves Dark Wizards—just how many are really patient?

"Kill me, then!"

It occurred to me before, but never so sharply as those last few moments of life, that how eager I was to meet Dumbledore on the other side. My laughter grew, bringing my side pain as I thought of that foolish old wizard waiting for me patiently beyond that hideous drapery I was about to tumble through.

"You will not win, you cannot win."

"_Avada…"_

Oh, Albus, another great adventure indeed!

"The wand will never, ever be yours—"

"_KEDAVRA!_"


End file.
